


Ouma's Dying Moments

by decievedead



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Dangan Ronpa Spoilers, M/M, New Dangan Ronpa V3 Spoilers, Sad Oma Kokichi, danganronpa - Freeform, kokichi just loves him but never told him, saiouma
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29834952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/decievedead/pseuds/decievedead
Summary: Ouma Kokichi was a compulsive liar. A thorn in a bed of roses- A fucking nightmare. It was how he'd been his entire life, up until his last moments. The mask he wore each day surely had fooled those around him, he'd decieved each and every one of the so called 'ultimates', painting a bittersweet picture of himself.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 9





	Ouma's Dying Moments

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This includes themes of death, so if you're uncomfy with that please do not read <3  
> Either way, i hope you enjoy this even though it is short, and not the best written :D

He'd been entertaining up until his last moments, bringing the chaos and twists to each trial he'd gone through, with him around it was never a dull time. However the time had come for his final act, his final puzzle for his fellow ultimates, if he was going out- it would be with a bang. His plan was full proof, and he was determined to make a difference, perhaps to prove something not only to the others, but to himself. He'd become used to the hatred he got from those around him, the dirty looks, the whispers. They simply added to what he _wanted _to be, more so, what he told himself he wanted to be.  
Ouma Kokichi was a compulsive liar. A thorn in a bed of roses- A fucking nightmare. It was how he'd been his entire life, up until his last moments. The mask he wore each day surely had fooled those around him, he'd decieved each and every one of the so called 'ultimates', painting a bittersweet picture of himself. But that painting had flaws, and the more Ouma tried to hide them, the more it cracked. And slowly, that painting whithered away more and more, enough for simple minded people to see its failure. Only one _not _so simple minded person, had seen its true beauty, and had tried to understand its flaws. That one individual being a certain detective, that Ouma treasured more than one would treasure a stack of gold. However, his feeling towards Saihara were insignifigant now, because yet again- Ouma had pushed him away, refusing to let himself feel, refusing to let himself be cared for. A cowards move, really. And maybe he was. Maybe he _was _a coward, fuck if he knew. He didn't care. Every desicion he made had bought him to this moment, laying there on the press as it painfully slowly gained on him. Dying like this, sacrificing himself, it really was ironic. He'd preached on about how he enjoyed this game of killing they'd been forced to submit to, he laughed whilst others cried, and he lied like there was no tomorrow. Well, for him now, there wasn't.______

______Sharp breaths escaped his shaking lips, the poision he'd been struck with coursing throughout his fragile body. Fuck, it hurt. It hurt so badly, but he had to wait it out. Tears slipped from his violet eyes, running slowly down his oh so soft skin. Such a beautiful face, bareing such an ugly lie. That's just how it is, the most perfect of things bare such sharp teeth. However Ouma wasn't as sharp as he seemed to those around him. In reality, he was weak. Oh he was so fucking weak. He'd never admit that to anyone, hell, not even himself. But denial is a bitch, and boy was he aware of it. The closer anyone would come to him, the harder he'd push them away. Hiding behind his mask, lying through his teeth, he'd put his all into staying alone, staying away, from anyone he felt himself beginning to care for. In truth, he despised himself. He despised himself, and the lies he spat, more than anything. But from a young age, he'd realised that putting his trust into others would only come back to bite him in the ass, and he refused to allow himself to go through that pain. Feelings meant nothing (everything) to him. Allowing himself to care made him vunerable, a fate he would never let happen. Instead, he forced numbness on himself, and at this point it had been habit for the feelings he discarded to build up over time, resulting in those pityful breakdowns he'd have in his dorm in the midst of the night._ _ _ _ _ _

______The press was getting awfully close, and Ouma's breath hitched in his throat. His entire body was trembling in fear, his mind sent into overdrive as he prepared himself to meet his cruel end. Again, the irony. A claustrophobic getting crushed to death, how unloving. The perfect fate for a liar such as himself. Squeezing his dreary eyes shut, he pictured the one thing he knew could soothe him, the one thing he wanted to see just _one _last time before he left.  
Saihara-chan with his beautiful smile, the one in which his lips curled slightly, and a soft laugh would fall from them. His Golden eyes that Ouma could lose himself in for hours, daydreaming of the future he _could _have had with him, if only he'd let himself. His soft touch, that Ouma longed for so, so badly._____ _ _ _ _ _

__________But sadly, he'd never get that touch. He'd never get to call him his. Instead, he'd die alone, a true display of the harsh reality that he'd lived. Laying on the cold press that soon claimed him, Ouma smiled at death, greeting him with his usual grin._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________A grin that would certainly, stain the ones around him, and live on even in death._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

__________\--_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


End file.
